


The Icen Mage

by sofreakinmanyfandoms, Trashcanakin



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: (Mostly Tony TBH), Alternate Universe - Magic, Brief mention of past rape, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Don't copy to another site, Fantasy Fusion, Happy Ending, M/M, Pre-Slash, Sort Of, Steampunk fantasy, Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Very Vague Gore, kind of crack-y
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23010520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sofreakinmanyfandoms/pseuds/sofreakinmanyfandoms, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trashcanakin/pseuds/Trashcanakin
Summary: Steve will do anything to help his childhood best friend recover - anything, including chase down a fairy tale.But what if that fairy tale is actually an enemy?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, Loki/Steve Rogers
Comments: 12
Kudos: 56
Collections: Marvel Rare Pair Bang 2019





	The Icen Mage

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Trashcanakin for the artwork and plot premise that inspired this fic! It was a blast to write and absolutely took on a life of its own. I didn't even know how I was going to end it until I wrote the last sentence. What a trip, haha!

Steve stood guard outside the cage, watching as the man within continued to sit perfectly still and stare at nothing. He would eat and drink only when necessary and had yet to respond to any attempts to talk to him. Still, Steve was willing to wait.

He had been keeping watch for nearly five hours when Natasha finally came and dragged him away to eat. She had spent the last two weeks searching for anything that could help free the man in the cage and had come up with nothing.

“He’s too far gone, Steve,” she told the blond. “If the Hydra were still alive, Strange says he could free Bucky’s mind by accessing it through the Hydra’s, but with it dead, he can’t get ahold of the magic to even begin to unravel it.” The redhead placed a hand softly on his arm. “I’m sorry. If I’d known… You may just have to accept that Bucky is gone.”

“I can’t do that, Nat.” The look in his eyes made her heart clench. “Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky. I thought I’d lost him years ago, and as long as he’s actually alive, I won’t give up.”

“Steve, Strange said –”

“What do you know about the Icen Mage?”

\----------

_(Two weeks earlier)_

York and Asgard had come together to discuss a treaty for the first time in nearly one thousand years. York’s new young king, Anthony Stark, was far more concerned with keeping peace than his father Howard had been. Asgard’s ruler Odin Allfather had been like Howard in his youth, but age had brought wisdom, and wisdom, a desire for peace with neighboring nations. And so their great armies had set up camp on either side of the border between the two countries, with a great tent in the middle where alliances and trade could be discussed.

Three months into his reign and Tony was ready to abdicate. Surely there was someone else more suited for ruling than he? The Lady Pepper would do well; she was always incredibly organized. Or Sir Steven, with his ridiculously adamant adherence to the code of chivalry! Anyone but Tony, who hated diplomacy because it got in the way of getting things done and would rather invent and build a solution to a problem than listen to his advisors babble on about why they couldn’t just _go in and build an irrigation system_ in that part of York, that would be _far_ too _practical_ , and the peasants there can’t _possibly_ repay the money it would take to employ laborers to complete the project.

Tony may or may not have sent a diagram of the plan and twelve or so modified digging machines to Ben Parker, the minor lord in charge of that region. Harvest would be over soon, and there would be several months for the locals to do their own work on an irrigation system before the ground started to freeze for winter. After all, just because the council didn’t want to do anything to keep the people from starving to death didn’t mean Tony couldn’t give them the means to keep themselves from starving.

Point being, Tony was _too_ _soft_ to be king. He sighed to himself as he stepped into his tent after a long day of treaty negotiation. It was obvious to anyone who had been in the room that Odin was going easy on the less-experienced king, taking Tony’s input and reworking it into properly diplomatic statements. At least he wasn’t being patronizing; if anything, he was more fatherly than Tony’s own dad had been. Not something he’d expected from a man who’d had such a scandal erupt last year when his youngest discovered he’d been adopted…

Tony’s tired musings were cut short by the alarm trumpet sounding from one of the outer guards. As quickly as it began, it cut off, but others started clamoring from all sides. The camp was under attack.

“Sire!” Sir Barton called as he ducked into the tent, “the Hydra’s cult is attacking from the north, with the Winter Soldier at the front; and Thanos’s Chitauri from the south, led by Loki Odinson. It looks like York and Asgard’s enemies decided to unite while we were together in an attempt to take us all out. Coulson, Romanov, and I will get you back to the capital.”

“And _this_ , not _showing off_ , _Pepper_ , is why we still bring our armies when peacefully discussing trade treaties,” Tony muttered, fastening his breastplate and hooking it up to his gauntlets. “Like hell am I going anywhere. I can fight as well as any soldier in my army, and I’m not leaving my men to die. If you have to act like my guard dog, do it in battle.”

“Yes, Sire,” Barton replied, whipping his bow from his back and swiftly nocking an arrow.

Knights Romanov and Coulson look unsurprised and resigned, respectively, when Tony and Barton join them outside the tent, Tony in his full battle armor.

“The most recent update to York’s armor is working well,” Romanov informed him. “I’m assuming your armor is an updated version, Sire?”

“As if I’d make anyone else go into battle with armor I haven’t personally tested in combat,” Tony scoffed.

Coulson cocked a disapproving eyebrow. “And if it malfunctions?”

“That’s what you guys are for. Let’s go.”

Romanov filled him in on the battle as they fought their way toward Hydra’s frontlines. “Rogers is engaging the Winter Soldier. The Hydra is actually here this time, but it’s hiding behind its army. On the Chitauri front, Thor is engaging his brother; Loki disappeared nearly a century ago, and no one was more surprised than his family to find him leading Thanos’s forces. The Asgardians have that front. Our troops are doing well against the Cult of Hydra so far, but with the Hydra actually here…”

“It can feed them its magic and keep them going indefinitely,” Tony finished. “Okay, Asgard has their hands full at the moment, so we’re going to have to do this ourselves. Romanov, Barton, I want you to get to the Hydra and kill it at any cost. Take anyone you need with you. Don’t forget to –”

“Cauterize the wound each time we cut off a head, or two more will grow in its place,” Barton finished, an unsettling grin growing across his face. “Oh, this is gonna be fun.”

The two of them disappeared into the mass of fighting bodies, and Tony turned to Coulson. “The Hydra can keep even dead men running at this range. You and I are going to help the rest of York make as many of Hydra’s followers into dead men as possible. It’ll tax its magic further, and leave us with fewer opponents once Barton and Romanov have succeeded. And if you spot Strange, have him collect the still living somewhere they can’t keep attacking; that’ll both thin down the field and distract the Hydra from its control of the dead, even if only a little bit.”

Coulson nodded, and with that, the two men threw themselves fully into the battle.

\----------

Enhanced though he was by science and magic, Steve still found himself struggling to match the Winter Soldier blow for blow. As every other time the two had faced, the Soldier said nothing, keeping up a relentless attack. His eyes behind his black mask were expressionless, and his magic-infused metal arm moved with precision.

Vaguely, Steve was aware of Doctor Strange, York’s Sorcerer Supreme, and his pupils lifting many of Hydra’s followers with golden tendrils of shimmering magic, binding them in an improvised cage of earth and stone. Somewhere behind him the king was using his battle armor, a more complete and advanced version of that with which he’d equipped York, to keep the enemy off a fallen soldier. The Hydra’s screams, once many, were diminishing as someone steadily removed its heads and cauterized the wounds.

All this was taken in with his senses and yet ignored, his whole focus on _not dying_ at the hand of the man in front of him, until the last cry of the Hydra was cut off.

As the Hydra fell dead, the Soldier stopped fighting. He stopped moving.

He stopped everything.

\----------

“Heartblood magic,” Strange had said.

“Complete control,” Strange had said.

“He had no choice,” Strange had said.

Strange had said a lot of things. What they all came down to was this: James “Bucky” Barnes, childhood friend of Steven Rogers and childhood sweetheart of Anthony Stark, had not died when he’d disappeared almost twenty years ago. Instead, he’d been captured by the Cult of Hydra and turned into a puppet for the monster’s will.

And two weeks after freeing him, Tony was forced to accept that they would never get his Jamie back.

To Rogers, James had always been Bucky, the boy who fought alongside him and the man who’d always believed in him. But to Tony, James would always be Jamie. It was Jamie who found Tony after every one of Howard’s drunken rants about how useless his son was and would always be. It was Jamie who always kissed the bruises and let out a little of his magic to make the sting go away. It was Jamie who held Tony close and whispered in his ear every little thing about the prince that was beautiful and good.

It was because of Jamie that Tony hadn’t killed himself before he reached adulthood.

That was why, when Tony came across Romanov and Rogers arguing about whether the Icen Mage was real or a myth, he didn’t hesitate.

“Anything you need,” he told Rogers, “anything at all, you take it, and you find him. You find him, and whatever he wants as payment, you say yes. I don’t care how much it costs; I’ll pay whatever he asks. Promise him my wealth, my castle, hell – promise him my damn armor! Just bring him back. Get Jamie back for us.”

Rogers looked him in the eyes without pity or disappointment for the first time since their friend disappeared.

“I will. I swear, Tony, I will.”

\----------

“They dared corrupt my brother! They shall pay!”

Odin sat on his throne in Asgard and impassively watched his eldest pace furiously about the room. Thor’s ranting continued for nearly half an hour when the blond finally turned to his father.

“Give me a battalion of Asgard’s finest warriors. Let us rescue Loki and lay waste to the Chitauri scum!”

“My son,” Odin replied calmly, remaining in his seat, “Thanos and his forces are not to be trifled with. Your brother has made his choice clear; Asgard needs your focus here, building our defenses – not far away chasing a vain hope.”

“But Loki –”

“Was not enslaved and compelled to attack!” The heavy sound of Gungnir hitting stone echoed through the great hall. “Your thousand years are nothing on the centuries I’ve seen, and you’ve used none of them for the development of your seidr as your brother has. I’ve had longer to hone my sight than both your lives together, and I tell you, he was not compelled by magic! Loki led the attack of his own free will. The sooner you accept that, the better chance we have against Thanos’s forces when they return. Now, your generals await your order. Go, prepare our borders and shore our defenses.”

“But Father!”

“Go! I command you as your king.”

Odin sunk into his seat with a sigh as his eldest stormed out. He had lost one son to hatred and prejudice already; in the face of his heir’s anger, he prayed to the Norns that he wouldn’t lose Thor as well.

\----------

“Monster.”

“Dangerous.”

“Not real.”

“Frightening horns.”

“Blue skin, scarred by dark magic.”

“Perpetual winter.”

“A fairy tale to keep children in their beds at night.”

Steve had been searching for nearly a month, and all he’d heard was rumors. The stories started a century ago, and new ones popped up all the time, yet no one seemed to know anything certain when it came to the Icen Mage, except that he was not human.

He had, however, been able to determine one thing for certain: any new tales of the Icen Mage originated along the northern border of York, from the villages and farmers who lived alongside the Voidwood.

No country was willing to claim the Voidwood, for few men or beasts that entered it ever returned to the light of day. It was rumored that beyond the miles of darkness lurking beneath the trees was a land of ice and giants, so cold that nothing green ever grew and so harsh no man could survive. It made sense, Steve supposed, that the Icen Mage would live in or near a land of ice.

Magic darker than the shadows lurked just out of sight as the knight returned to the village from whence most of the stories originated, a place tucked in between two hills and right against the Voidwood’s border. Steve spent several days preparing for his journey; he sent word to the king about where he was headed; stocked up on a little non-perishable food, as well as hunting and trapping supplies; bought as warm a cloak he could find; and stabled his horse long-term at the small livery.

“If I’m not back by then,” he told the wide-eyed stable boy as he paid for a month in advance, “send word to King Anthony, and he will make sure you are compensated for as long as it takes me to return.”

“Yes, Sir,” the young boy agreed with a nod, taking the reins and leading his horse inside.

With that, the last of Steve’s affairs were in order. Taking a deep breath, he shouldered his pack and made his way into the dense undergrowth of the Voidwood.

It had been many years since his mother had taught him the old ways, but Steve had never forgotten. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, releasing it with his prayer.

“I offer myself to the earth and all her creatures. Use me as you need; I submit myself willingly. In exchange, I ask that you grant to me the release of my friend. Lead me to the Icen Mage.”

\----------

Tony watched the unresponsive figure as the missive from Steve hung limply from his hand.

“He’ll find him, Jamie. If anyone can do it, Steve can. You’re going to come back to us.”

\----------

“Wandering” was the only word that could describe what Steve had been doing for the past few weeks. There was no way to tell which direction he was headed in the Voidwood, so he didn’t even try; instead, he followed wherever he thought the trees were calling. So far he’d splinted a broken sapling, helped a mother deer who was having difficulty in the birth of her fawn, and shared his game with a hungry fox and her kits when they cautiously approached his campsites.

“If you help the land, Steven,” his mother had said, “she will help you. Mother Earth always helps those who respect her and her creatures.” In that spirit, he’d attempted to follow every instruction the forest gave him, and trusted it to lead him where he needed to be.

Scarcely had Steve packed up camp that morning than he’d heard a whimper somewhere to his left. Sliding his pack up onto his shoulders, he made his way carefully towards the sound.

He’d gone hardly fifty paces when he emerged from the dense trees into a long stretch of land that appeared to have been ravaged by fierce flooding. Though he could see trees not too far across from him, there were numerous rocks and ravines. It was behind the former and in one of the latter that he found the pup.

Whatever color the wolf pup’s fur was naturally was hidden beneath thick mud. Its paws scrabbled for purchase against the slimy wet bank, only for it to slide once more back down to the puddles at the bottom.

“Hey, little one,” Steve said softly, not wanting to scare it too badly. “Looks like you’re stuck down there. May I help you out?”

The little pup cocked its head and whimpered again, but didn’t try to back away. Daunting as the incline was for a tiny wolf pup, it was nothing for a full-grown man. Steve laid down on his stomach, ignoring the mud now clinging to his coat, and reached down, gently scooping the pup out of the ditch.

No sooner had he pulled it back up than he found a little boy’s arms wrapped around his neck.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I couldn’t change back to get out. I can only change when I’m within range of Faðir, and I’m still small enough as a wolf that the ditch kept me too far down. I thought I’d be stuck there until night!” The mud-drenched kid pulled back and beamed at him. “Faðir will want to thank you, too! Come! Come with me!”

Steve found himself being dragged along by a very enthusiastic, incredibly muddy little boy. He was far too surprised to resist as they wove through the destroyed landscape and into the trees on the other side. By the time Steve had wrapped his mind around the fact that the wolf pup was now a little boy, he was being pulled into a frost-covered clearing.

“Faðir! Faðir!”

“Fenrir? You’re back already? You usually stay out longer on your morning runs…”

The figure froze in the doorway of the weathered Victorian house, mirroring Steve in his shock at the sight of the other. His skin was blue, darker than ice, yet just as cold in appearance. Long, dark curls fell around short, curved horns to frame a thin face marked with raised lines in a strange pattern. Frost spread around each footfall. This was the Icen Mage.

And he was Loki.

\----------

“The King has spoken,” Sif reminded the pacing prince. Thor whirled on his friend.

“Father wasn’t there! He didn’t look Loki in the eye as I did. His anger was born of desperation, not of hatred! Thanos and his Chitauri have dared touch a son of Odin, and they should be made to pay.”

Volstagg ripped half the meat off a hani drumstick and spoke around the mouthful. “Be that as it may, my friend, our King has still spoken. What would you do?”

“The ninth noble charge,” Hogun added in his calm voice, “is to abide by the enactments of lawful authority and to bear with courage the decrees of the Norns.”

“And the fifth,” Thor reminded him, “is to suffer no evil to go unremedied. How am I to stand by while my brother is thus corrupted?”

“I don’t know why Loki left all those years ago.” Fandral pushed himself off the wall and stood firm, commanding the group’s attention. “I never knew him as more than your younger brother, good for amusement or a good prank. But I do know that he was never, in all our years as warriors together, full of malice. Mischief, undoubtedly; and jealously, at times; but malice? No; Loki was always one to retreat when wronged, to lick his wounds in private and respond after he had recovered. The Loki we faced on the battlefield is not the Loki we grew up with.” He placed a firm hand on Thor’s shoulder. “I swore an oath when I became a warrior to follow you, Thor, into battle, wherever you lead and no matter the odds. If you believe the Loki I know is not lost forever, I am with you, whatever you decide.”

“What you’re suggesting is treason,” Volstagg warned, dropping an empty bone.

Thor shook his head. “Nay, friends. If you join me in this, it will be I alone who takes any blame.”

Sif stepped forward. “I stand with you.”

Hogun nodded. “And I.”

With a lingering look of longing at the full table, Volstagg stood and sighed. “What is the plan? And will we at least be back in time for dinner?”

\----------

Steve’s first instinct was to attack, but he violently buried that impulse and raised his hands in a gesture of peace. Bucky needed him to succeed; Loki may be the enemy of York’s ally, but he had yet to act against York directly. As long as that remained true, Steve was willing to work with Loki to save his friend.

Loki, on the other hand, was not so graciously inclined. “Fenrir, get inside, please. Take care of your sister.”

The boy looked between his father and his savior, brow furrowed. “Faðir?”

“Now, Fenrir.”

As soon as his son was inside, Loki shut the door and warded it with a wave of his hand, his appearance shifting back to the coloring with which Steve was familiar. “What brings a knight of York to my door?”

Steve smiled ruefully and gave a small shrug. “I have a favor to ask.”

The mage’s eyes narrowed as he assessed his visitor. When he was done, he tilted his head to the side, but kept himself alert. “Follow me.”

\--------

Loki’s mind raced as he led the knight around the back to the shed where he worked his magic. With a subtle hand motion, he switched which dimension was connected to the door and opened it, motioning for the man to enter first.

Like a trusting fool (as most York men were, in Loki’s experience), the knight entered without hesitation.

“Now, Yorkman,” the mage said darkly as the door clanged shut behind him, “what could be so dire as to send you searching for a legend?”

The knight’s face was downcast as he replied, “A dear friend of mine was possessed by the Hydra for nearly two decades, and our greatest mage cannot free his mind from its magic. King Anthony has sent me to find you and offer whatever you request as payment in exchange for Bucky’s healing.”

“I assume this ‘Bucky’ of which you speak is the Winter Soldier.” Loki studied the blond as he continued speaking. “I am surprised your sorcerer couldn’t free him. The man is practically incompetent, of course, but any of my children could have looked at the soldier and seen only his mind was trapped. It is a simple matter to separate foreign magic when there is still untainted magic in the patient’s body.”

Hope bloomed across the disgustingly transparent face. “So you can help him?”

Loki nodded. “For the right price, of course.”

“Of course! Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

This was an opportunity the mage could not pass up. “Thanos has made me a fugitive from my own family; he has stolen something very dear to me, and uses it to ensure my cooperation. I want it back, and I want York’s assurance that Asgard will not sentence me for crimes I did not wish to commit.”

“Done,” the knight agreed instantly. “How can I help?”

“You can start by giving me your name.”

For some reason Loki could not fathom, the knight blushed. “Steven, son of Sarah.”

“Well, then, Steven, son of Sarah,” the mage said with a smile, “you’re going to help me break into Titan.”

\----------

“Remind me,” Fandral whispered as the five of them pressed back further into the dark alcove, “why we thought this was a good idea.”

“ _We_ didn’t,” Sif whispered back, eyes locked on the troops marching past through the slight gap in the hanging tapestries. “ _You_ , however, and _Thor_ , thought it was a _great_ idea. _I_ protested, _Hogun_ said nothing, and _Volstagg_ didn’t care as long as there was plenty of time for _breakfast_ _first_.”

The guard unit passed, and once the footsteps had faded completely, Thor poked his head out and looked both ways.

“The coast is clear, my friends! Let us continue onward!”

To Sif’s absolute shock (and Hogun’s, although his face remained as impassive as ever), the group made it to the dungeons without being caught; picking up lighted torches from the entrance, they began to search. Thor’s frustration grew, however, as they passed cell after empty cell – Loki was nowhere to be found.

It was Hogun’s sharp eyesight that spotted the camouflaged door. In the shadows along the back of one of the cells was a stone door that would have completely blended in with the wall were it not for a thin frame and a small window. Volstagg held the outer cell door open to prevent entrapment while the other four cautiously approached. Nothing could be spotted through the window, the room’s shadows too all-consuming. So, heedless of Sif’s warnings, Thor wrenched the door open and raised his torch high.

The far-too-thin face of a frightened boy no older than five stared up at him. “Who are you?” the child whispered.

“I am Thor Odinson, Crown Prince of Asgard,” Thor managed with very little stammering.

Hope bloomed in the boy’s eyes. “Uncle Thor? Have you come to take me back to Faðir?”

The stunned silence was broken by, of all people, Hogun. “It would seem we’ve found the reason Loki fought alongside Thanos.”

\----------

As soon as Sleipnir (“My eldest,” Loki explained) returned from collecting… whatever was in the large sack slung over his shoulder, they left Fenrir and his little sister Hela in the young man’s charge. Steve prepared to begin the trek to Titan, only to have Loki roll his eyes and grab the knight’s arm. Seconds later, they were standing not in front of a house in the woods, but a sprawling city surrounded by an intimidating wall.

“What in Odin’s name is he doing here?”

Steve barely had time to take in the figures creeping up the hill before they were again blinking to another location, this time popping up right in front of the group. He and Thor blinked at each other, taking in the fact that their new allies were suddenly there.

“Faðir!” The little boy in Thor’s arms lit up when he saw Loki. “Uncle Thor and his friends got me away from the mean man!” The mage rushed to catch his youngest son as the child threw himself towards his father.

“Uh, hi,” Steve said, tearing his eyes away from the happy reunion and offering his hand to the other blond, “I’m Steve Rogers of York.”

“Steven!” The Asgardian prince enveloped him in an enthusiastic embrace. “I have heard many tales of your valor in battle! It is encouraging to see Asgard’s allies helping free my brother from Thanos’ control!” Pulling back, he frowned. “Though I doubt my father will see it as such. He has always judged Loki more harshly than I feel he ought.”

“How exactly did you two end up together?” Thor’s female companion asked.

“It’s merely a business transaction,” Loki cut in, tucking his son against his chest. “Now, Steven, I believe we can be off. Since Jӧr has been recovered, I shall fulfill my end of our bargain as long as you uphold the rest of your agreement.”

“Of course –” Steve began before being interrupted by a very earnest crown prince.

“Brother, you must return home. I shall speak to Father, and your son’s witness shall prove your innocence. Our family has been separated far too long. It is time to reunite!”

“Really, Thor?” Loki drawled. “After what Father said and I’ve done, you think we can all go back to being one happy family again?”

“But brother –”

“Look,” Steve cut in, “obviously I don’t know the full backstory here, but I do know that Loki will be in York under King Anthony’s protection for as long as Loki wishes to stay. You seem earnest, Your Highness, but desire and reality don’t always line up. Talk to your father, but let Loki protect himself as he feels is best. I will gladly provide any testimony King Odin requires; until then, you know where to find us.”

As soon as his proposal was finished, he felt Loki’s magic wrap around him and found himself again in the frosted clearing in the heart of the Voidwood. Sleipnir opened the door to greet them and slumped in relief when he saw Jӧr in his father’s arms.

“Quickly, children,” Loki said, rushing into the house, “bring me everything you wish to have with you while we are in York. I do not know when we will be back, so if you are unsure about anything, bring it.”

“We’re leaving?” Fenrir asked from where he sat on the floor playing with his little sister.

“Yes, darling. Odin may track my magic from Titan back to us here. The king of York has promised us safe haven for as long as we may have need of it.”

At the mention of the Asgardian king’s name, Sleipnir’s fists clenched and the house trembled. Loki cupped his eldest’s cheek and carded his fingers through the young man’s grey hair. “He will not touch you, love, I promise. Now hurry, bring me everything. We must travel most of the way without magic, and Odin will not be far behind.”

\----------

As his children brought their possessions, Loki shifted them one by one into his pocket dimension. Once everything was moved and everyone dressed for travel, he asked the knight for the name of the town from which he’d entered the Voidwood. Steven blinked a few times as they all appeared at the edge of the small village.

“I thought you said we couldn’t travel with magic?” he asked, confused.

Fenrir beamed proudly. “Faðir has made our home only accessible by magic. We have to travel by magic if we want to get out of the Voidwood.”

Loki nodded at his son’s explanation. “We will travel normally from here.”

With a shrug, Steven scooped Fenrir into his arms and headed towards the livery.

\-------

While it had taken Steve a month of searching before he had entered the Voidwood, he had not taken a direct route to arrive; travelling directly back to the capital, even with three young children, took only three days. Sleipnir shifted into his other form, that of a large, eight-legged horse, and carried his father and two brothers. Hela rode in front of Steve and slept for most of the trip.

Upon their arrival, half of York descended on them with weapons drawn. It was with much yelling and disappointed glares that Steve got Loki and his children into the palace for an audience with the king.

Anthony listened carefully to Loki’s full story. How the mage had been raped while in a shifted form, causing the conception of Sleipnir. How Odin had tried to take the child, then confined to his horse form, and raise him in the royal stables, and how Loki had fled with his son from the scorn and derision of the Asgardian people. How they’d nearly been captured by Thanos during their trip, saved only by a wandering group of Jӧtun. How he’d fallen in love with the Frost Giant Angrboða, married, and had three more children before she was murdered, struck down by Odin when she refused to tell him where he could find Loki. How Jӧrmungandr, though safely hidden from Odin by his mother before her death, was found by the Mad Titan, forcing Loki to do his bidding lest his youngest son be slain.

When the whole story had been told, the king rose from his throne and stood before Loki. “On my honor as king, I, Anthony, son of Howard, take you, Loki, father of Sleipnir, and all your children into my family. The protection of the House of Stark be upon you all, and all of York shall ensure it.”

If Loki’s eyes were watering as man embraced mage, no one was willing to comment on it.

\----------

“The key,” Loki explained to Doctor Strange as he entered the room where James Barnes was being kept, “lies in the subject’s innate magic. Because the Hydra merely took over his mind, using it to control his body rather than controlling the body directly, most of Mr. Barnes’s own magic remained untainted. If we trace his own magic from his heart up into his mind –”

“We can tell which magic must be removed because we know what his clean magic looks like,” the doctor finished, lighting up in excitement. “I must say, I am looking forward to your working with myself and my pupils. York switched to technologically-based magic several generations ago, and the deep earth magic of Asgard has already been lost to us.”

The mages silenced their conversation as Loki began to work, silently bringing Stephen along the pathways his magic felt out so the man could learn the technique instead of just the theory. Outside the room, Tony and Steve waited anxiously for a sign that James Barnes had returned to them.

“Where –”

One word was all it took before Tony was in the room and pulling his beloved into his arms. “Tony,” the broken man sobbed, “what have I done?”

“Nothing that cannot be forgiven, my love. You’re free now. You’re free.”

In the doorway, Loki gently touched Steve’s arm to draw his attention. “It will take time for him to recover; he has been through more trauma than most will ever be able to imagine. With the help of friends and family, he’ll eventually be all right, but he’ll never again be the boy with whom you grew up.”

Steve looked back at his childhood best friend sobbing in the arms of his king. “He doesn’t have to be the same. He just has to be.”

\----------

Over the next several months, Odin sent numerous delegations threatening dissolution of their treaty if Loki were not turned over to Asgard. After the latest such visit, the King of York stormed into the chambers of his Captain of the Guard, ranting against the Asgardian King.

“I swear, Steve, every emissary he sends looks at me like I’m a kid! Just because we humans don’t live thousands of years doesn’t mean I don’t have the authority in _my own country_ to –”

“Uncle Tony?” Jӧrmungandr interrupted his new uncle mid-rant. “Faðir and Papa are busy. Will you play with me?”

Taking a moment to actually look at his surroundings, Tony saw Steve stretched out on top of Loki on the couch, mouths locked together and brand new golden rings glinting on their left hands.

“Well,” he mused, “that’s one way to prove to Odin that Loki is a citizen of York now.” He looked down at the round-faced little boy and grinned. “Sure thing, kiddo. Let’s go blow stuff up.”

So they did, leaving the newlyweds to enjoy each other’s company. 

**Author's Note:**

> Real stuff used that must be credited: Nine Noble Charges of the Odinic Rite can be found here!
> 
> Banner and moodboard are by Trashcanakin. Story by sofreakinmanyfandoms.


End file.
